For every dream shattered
by tallgeese
Summary: Follow up to "that perches in the soul" With Aizen dead and his ambition shattered, an immenent choice remains for Orihime-and what will become of the one spurned? Ulquiorra x Orihime, Ichigo x Rukia Rating changed to "T" because of H Ichigo and violence
1. The Espada who remain

Author's note: there was a lot of demand for me to write another Ulquihime story, at first I didn't think I could do it since if I focused on the relationship developing again it would turn into a carbon copy of my first story, and if I decided to do a post-development story it'd be excessively lovey and reek of some strange Disney sequel. Well, one of the reviews of my first story gave me a shot of inspiration! Rather than focus on the characters as my first story did, this one be more about the surrounding plot and how it affects the characters (yup! No more being lazy for me.) Also, I wanted to extend my focus and try my hand at portraying a larger portion of Bleach's cast. This story is the result. Please read and review (so I can tell whether I'm on to something or not.) Also, if you aren't familiar with my first story: "That perches in the Soul" please find and read it when you have the time. If you're a fan of romance I feel I can safely say it'll be worth a look. here's the link: (just add fanfiction dot net to the front of it.) /s/4154575/1/thatperchesinthesoul

**Chapter 1: **

**The Espada who remain**

**Grimmjow rediscovered**

**We regard Ulquiorra**

"Kurosaki sure beat the hell out of you, huh?" An arrogant voice was carried through what Ulquiorra thought for certain to be darkness. He felt pained and disoriented, his eyes unfocused and his mind uncertain whether he was standing, sitting, or laying. He remained silent while the clouds lifted from his eyes, his gaze finally focusing on the still-blurred outline of Grimmjow Jeagurjaques

"Grimmjow…" His voice sounded so far away that he couldn't be certain it was his own. The blue-haired Arrancar was standing over him, a jeer of confident malice on his face. Ulquiorra finally regained enough of his bearings to realize that he was laying on his back in the desert sand. The dull sun of Hueco Mundo shined above the two men in its somber way, and the majority of Aizen's throne room lay in a wreath of rubble all around them.

"You know, just the sight of you has always pissed me off. I've hated that smug and analytical crap you spouted for just about as long as I've known you. When I saw you laying on the ground in a pool of blood it made me so happy I could cry." He followed these taunts with his unmistakable laugh, a sadistic cackle that expressed an almost childlike pleasure. Ulquiorra merely looked up at him. Grimmjow's presence confirming what he'd suspected to be the case. His lord, Aizen, had met with defeat. Ichigo's determination proved capable of defying even the cold and unflinching judgement of logic and reason, and now Orihime was…

"Lord Aizen." Ulquiorra said monotonously, angry despite himself at how weak and listless the sound of his voice was.

"…Is dead." A female voice finished his thought for him. Halibel, emerging from behind the pillar of sand where before she was resting, looked down at Ulquiorra with emotionless eyes. "You've fallen, Ulquiorra."

"As have you." He responded in kind. Her spirit pressure was so low it could almost be mistaken for human, and he knew she had also very narrowly escaped death. Halibel's appearance made Ulquiorra more curious about his surroundings. He forced himself into a sitting position, not minding the pain that greeted this exertion. Within the circle of ruins about them he identified Grimmjow and Halibel. In the corner, almost one-hundred feet away, he identified a slumbering mass that was almost certainly stark. The four of them were the only living creatures in the area.

"You lost 'cuz you're weak. That's all there is to it." Grimmjow cut in again. "I lost 'cuz I was weak, but now I'm strong. Stronger than the kid, and a whole hell of a lot stronger than any of you." It was irritating, but it seemed to be true. There was no trace of a wound on Grimmjow's body, and his eyes burned with a vitality they had never possessed before.

"Grimmjow, how did you-" Halibel began, but Ulquiorra clarified her question before she could finish.

"I see. You devoured Nnoitora." He truly wasn't interested, his thoughts at the moment centering around a certain red-haired girl. Grimmjow applauded Ulquiorra's assessment, laughing again.

"Caught it already, huh? I'm not surprised. Anyway, I have better things to do than gloat right now. I'll kill all three of you eventually, but you're low priorities and I don't need the handicap of finishing you off when you're half dead. " He shrugged. "I saved your lives, now return the favor by recovering so I can kill you one day. That's all I wanted to say." He turned to leave, but then suddenly seemed to remember something.

"Oh, and Ulquiorra?" He turned his head toward the prostrate arrancar.

"What?"

"You were killed by Ichigo Kurosaki, you know?" Ulquiorra didn't know, but didn't find it surprising either. His memories of the final clashes, of his released zanpaku-to clashing with Zangetsu, and of the demonic creature that seemed to emerge when Ichigo was on the brink of death were blurred and combined into an amalgam that he couldn't even begin to process.

"Is that so?" His voice was as cold as his gaze.

"His sword cut you into hamburger. It was that woman who saved you." He laughed. "I've never seen so many tears in my entire life. I just thought you might like to know about it, since you're so hot for her and all." His patronizing grin grew wider as he departed.

"So I find myself indebted to you once again, Orihime Inoue. I understand." He stood slowly.

"What will you do now?" Halibel asked, only moderately curious.

"With Lord Aizen dead, there is no longer any objective for me to pledge myself to."

"Do you plan on going to the human world?" Her voice showed the slightest trace of disapproval.

"If I am?"

"A foolish and idiotic sentiment, completely unlike you. Hollows, humans, and shinigami. Since antiquity time has pushed us into a never ending waltz. Humans are preyed upon by Hollows. Shingami hunt Hollows. Hollows kill Shinigami and are killed in kind. It is unbecoming to try to defy what you are."

"Ohhh, so that's what you think he's doing?" To both of their surprise, it was Stark who offered this groggy reply. The back of his hand lay over his eyes, and he didn't move much as he spoke. It was difficult to tell whether he was truly awake or not.

"We ain't hollows, though." He continued. "Suppose that we were? Bah, even an eternal life is too short to play by the rules all the time. It's better to spend your time on more noble pursuits. Sleeping, for instance, or sharing a drink with your 'enemy'." This last statement was a reference to the glass of sake he had enjoyed with Shunsui in the middle of Aizen's climactic battle. Stark was unique among the Espada in that he was never decisively beaten during the battle. He withdrew from the fighting as soon as it became apparent that his side could no longer win (never the sort to waste energy on unnecessary fighting.)

"I have no interest in such things." Ulquiorra said as he raised his hand, summoning a dimensional gate as only he and Aizen could. "I will continue as I always have."

"I guess I shouldn't waste my time being the only sensible one here. Very well, I will do the same. " Halibel answered, watching her former comrade become swallowed by the borders of his wormhole. She cast a long gaze back at Stark. "Staying here, then?"

"For a time, sure. When you get as old as I am you realize how pointless it is to move about too often, dear. Besides, this is where I told Lili to meet me." He returned to his sleep as his final companion departed.

Hueco Mundo had always been a world of chaos and primitive instincts. Over the course of several patient months, however, a bizarre form of controlled uniformity had began to take shape. Sosuke Aizen had arrived and for a time the entire world seemed animated toward a common purpose. However, that man and he alone was the cause of this. With his death and his army's defeat that delicate order crumbled with greater ease than his his ruined throne. All bonds were abandoned, and Aizen's Espada separated into the depths of chaos.


	2. The inevitable duel

Author's note: This scene looked like it would be much shorter in the outline than it turned out to be in practice. As a result I wound up making it the entire chapter. O.O Because of the increased scope of this story as opposed to its prequel, it will be much longer, possibly as long as twenty five or thirty chapters.

**Chapter 2:**

**The inevitable duel**

**The Hollow's return**

**A rift in the bond between Orihime and Ichigo**

Several hours before the events of the first chapter.

The stentorian eruption of clashing steal echoed like thunder across the halls of the massive alabaster castle. Near the epicenter of the collision two looming masses pressed all of their strength against their parried swords. With one final push they threw each other backward, resuming warning stances and staring intently at one another. Ichgo felt his vision dim, and found himself taking a step forward to catch himself before he collapsed. With an agitated grunt he forced himself to stand fully erect once again; a small release of his spiritual energy set to work restoring the hollow's mask that had shaded his face for the past four minutes. The melancholy green eyes of Ulquiorra Schiffer, a man who had managed to earn Ichigo's hatred in a very short amount of time, watched this display as he tightened his grip on the released zanpaku-to in his hands.

The tension of this momentary peace became unbearable for the young shinigami, and with an energetic scream he lunged once again. I didn't come this far just to fail! The thought forced energy into his exhausted limbs and added vitality to the strikes that his opponent now seemed to effortlessly pushed aside. There was a large cut in Ulquiorra's shoulder, and another above his eyebrow from which a streak of blood flowed freely down his face. With these two exceptions (and the obvious signs of fatigue Ulquiorra had begun to show) there was little indication that any of Ichigo's exertions had brought any injury at all to his opponent. Inoue is watching me right now. I won't let myself lose… I won't let myself die in front of her!

He swung two more high blows, and as Ulquiorra countered the last of them he shifted his weight and dragged his Zangetsu's blade into a swift leg-sweep. Ulquiorra jumped into the air- just as Ichigo had hoped. A swell of energy began to build around his sword.

"Getsuga Tensho!" Ichigo roared at the top of his lungs, allowing the river of ebony force to burst forward and swallow the floating arrancar. Ulquiorra barely had time to raise his arms in defense before being pushed backward through the nearby wall. Ichigo allowed a smirk to cross his face, but was forced to withdraw it quickly as he saw his enemy's arms gaining against his attack. With a patient gesture Ulquiorra wedged his own Zanpak-to into a more aggressive positions and began to cut through Ichigo's energy with his own. Seeing this coming, Ichigo sought desperately to move aside. However, he suddenly felt aware of how weighted and pained his body was, and it took every bit of his remaining willpower to move just a coupe steps to the side. An explosion of green and red swallowed the room.

"Kurosaki" The shrill scream of Orihime attempted to fight against the deafening sounds of the exlosion. This was the first word she'd spoken since this inevitable battle had began. She had remained poised in the same position for the entire struggle, gripping Nel's hand in a way that was probably more tight than the young girl would have preferred and staring through the yellow barrier of her shield with a look of transfixed discomfort on her face. She had summoned the barrier more to ease Ichigo's fears than anything. Grimmjow had deliberately attacked her several times over the course of his battle with Ichigo, hoping to catch him off guard. He wanted to be prepared for that ahead of time during this fight, but it was completely unnecessary. Ulquiorra would never harm her. She knew it with absolute certainty.

Her thoughts were entirely focused on Ichigo as the dust began to clear from the most recent attacks, however. The feelings of distress she was holding in were magnified as she saw the outline of his form slumped against Ulquiorra's. As her vision became clearer she noticed the fresh blood running from his mouth, and the tip of Ulquiorra's sword protruding from Ichigo's side. For Ichigo his senses had transcended pain. He suddenly felt no indication of the massive wound he'd sustained; he was oblivious to everything except the sudden and irresistible weariness that suddenly pulled on his eyelids.

"Da-damn…it." He uttered breathlessly, pulling himself away from Ulquiorra with all of his effort and stumbling backward. The actual wounds he had weren't nearly as severe a strain on his body as the spiritual pressure he kept hemorrhaging into repeated assaults and in keeping his mask in place far longer than his body was accustomed to. It took three backward steps for him to realize he couldn't possibly save his balance, and he collapsed against the remnants of a nearby wall, starring up at Ulquiorra with determined eyes.

"You're frustrated," The arrancar said dispassionately. He knew that Ichigo was spent, and the hand that wasn't gripping his sword had already found its way back into his pocket (Which was thankfully spared destruction during the fight, though the entire top of his uniform had been burned away.) "Which indicates that you doubted my words to you earlier. This was inevitable, Kurosaki Ichigo. To have continued to believe that you could emerge victorious after I made the difference between us clear was an act of foolishness. You chose to pay your life as forfeit for your pride." Ichigo knew he lacked the strength to say anything in response, he could feel his mind fading into blackness. His vision failing him as Ulquiorra's sword was drawn high-ready to deliver the killing strike. The last sound he heard was that final swing…

"Ulquiorra, please don't!" A desperate scream, obviously accompanied by tears, halted him immediately. He turned his head toward Orihime, who had brought her hands to her chest and looked pleadingly toward him. She repeated, more softly, "please." At her side, an equally teary Nel contributed her own plea.

"Pweese dun kill Itsyguu!" Ulquiorra knew he wouldn't have been able to kill Ichigo, even if neither of them had said anything. He had struggled so desperately to prevent an instance like this from occuring, but his analytical way of thinking made it clear that it could not be avoided. Trapped now in an paradox, how could he act when his nature would not allow him to betray neither Aizen nor Orihime? Perhaps it was deliverance that his problem resolved itself. At that moment an unnaturally strong hand gripped his Zanpaku-to.

"What the hell did you hesitate for?" This voice was shrill and merciless, it no more seemed to belong to Ichigo than to Ulquiorra himself. Yet it was from Ichigo that it came. His entire body was now bathed in unnatural spiritual energy; it almost seemed that he had been born anew. Everyone in the vicinity could sense that something terrible had occurred. "I guess I should thank you for being so stupid though. I need so much more time now that that bastard Ichigo has gotten so stubborn." With a violent thrust this new creature's fist rammed Ulquiorra's exposed torso, sending him reeling backward.

"Hollow." Ulquiorra stated, a great truth suddenly coming to him. "An entire hollow's soul dwelled inside of you. So that is why your reiatsu so closely resembled our own." Ichigo vanished as the words were spoken, reappearing almost instantaneously behind him.

"Don't be so god damn smug! If you think you have enough time to analyze me you definitely have enough time to bleed!" Ulquiorra dodged Zangetsu's strike only by firing a cero blast to propel him away. For a moment Ichigo struck at him as a cat would toy with a mouse, the sword making deep and intentional cuts in his arms and legs as he struggled to match Ichigo's pace. _Kurosaki's current strength surpasses my own at its zenith._The thought wasn't particularly distressing to Ulquiorra, for some reason. Ichigo charged directly toward him, seeming to opt for a front attack. As Ulquiorra brought up his own zanpaku-to to counter the strike, Ichigo vanished yet again. He was over the Espada's head before the latter had fully realized his position had changed.

"Were you always this slow?" The hollow inside Ichigo let out his sadistic cackle, a sound that almost drowned out the second Getsuga Tensho he fired at his undefended target. This wave was much more severe than the last one that had striken Ulquiorra, and he found himself unable to move against the scalding aura that enveloped him in an omnipresent pain. Ichigo's technique slammed him against what he at first thought to be a wall, it was several moments before he'd recovered his senses enough to realize it was the ground he'd hit. His everpresent laugh still echoing from his lips, Ichigo slammed down on top of him, landing on his stomach. There was a cry of pain that was almost the most emotional sound Ulquiorra had ever uttered, and it was accompanied with a series of sickening snaps as the bones of his ribs and back shattered.

"That's it, huh? Guess it's rude of me to complain when I didn't even expect you to last this long. Die now, insect! Die!" Ulqiorra looked up at him, his most secret of hearts thankful for this resolution. Being killed by Ichigo's hand spared him the despair that would come from failing Aizen or bringing pain to Orihime. _Orihime should never have been brought to this place. Her home is by your side, Ichigo Kurosaki. _With the last of his strength he jerked his head rigidly toward Orihime. The girl seemed to be in a daze, her mind trying to understand how it was that things could have gotten so different so quickly._I need not bind you here any longer. Farewell, Orihime Inoue._He had no sooner started to close his eyes before Ichigo's Zangetsu found its way into his heart. Ichigo jumped off of Ulquiorra's corpse, continuing to hack at his fallen enemy with savage glee.

"Die!" He said the word with such malice! Accompanying it with his bone-chilling laugh. He started to chant it in a macabre chorus, slicing each time he spoke. "Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!"

"Itsyguu ish scary." Nel had begun to sob, clinging tightly to Orihime's leg. Orihime herself had grown resolved, a grimace of anger crossing her face to spite her tears.

"Stand back, Nel." She said, reassuringly. As soon as the child had complied she reached a hand toward ichigo, the petals of her hairpin transforming into fairies.

"What'cha gonna do?" Nel asked, bringing a finger to her lip in curiosity.

"I'm going to find Ichigo." Orihime said, hoping she sounded more sure than she felt. "Koten Zanshun… I reject!" Her short matra caused Tsubaki, the most warlike of the fairies that served as her familiars, to become wreathed in a halo of light. He lunged toward Ichigo, striking his forehead with all his might. Orihime lacked the murderous intent necessary to bring out his full power, but she had only sent him out to gain Ichigo's attention, and he certainly achieved that. From across the room Ichigo turned toward her, giving her a look so fierce and bloodthirsty that despite herself she started to shrink away in fear. This impulse only lasted a moment, and she eventually shook her head and started walking toward him.

"What in the hell was that? I'm doing this for you, you know. Damn ingrate." This voice was so unlike his. There was no way it could be Ichigo.

"You're not Ichigo." She replied firmly. "I didn't want this. Ulquiorra…Ulquiorra didn't deserve this. You're not Ichigo. You're not." This repitition seemed to have an effect. Ichigo doubled over. His body went rigid as though he were having a seizure. Finally, he reached upward and gripped the hollow's mask like a vice, pulling violently.

"You woke him up! Grahh! You stupid bitch. Ichigo… You're only alive because of me. How long do you think you can keep dicking me around?"

"Shut up!" Another voice escaped from the same lips. Ichigo tore the mask from his face with an effort that was so taxing that it caused his knees to give way. Orihime had already set to work saving Ulquiorra.

"Inoue." Ichigo said somberly.

"Are you awake, sleepyhead?" Inoue smiled as she looked back at him, but it wasn't enough to hide the fear she now had toward him, or her worry for his victim. Ichigo sensed her terror, and it hurt him more than any of the injuries he'd suffered since coming to this place.

"I'm so sorry, Inoue." He finally allowed himself to collapse onto the floor. "Please forgive me."

"Don't be silly." She said, but her attention was elsewhere, and he had already slipped into unconsciousness. Nel ran over to him, brooding in worry. With a sigh Orihime resumed her labor; it was taking so much more effort to undo the damage than she'd expected it to. So much of the hollow's aura remained in the wounds that it was difficult to reject them.

"It almost makes me wish…" She finally started crying. They were tears she'd been holding back for a very long time. "I wish they'd never come here. I wish I could have stayed here forever. It took almost an hour, but she accomplished her goal. The instant she was certain Ulquiorra was breathing again she threw her arms around him, sobbing quietly. She would do so in silence for a very long time.


	3. Return and Recovery

Author's Note: I need to point this out, for those readers who haven't read my profile. My laptop was stolen about a month ago. All my projects (including this one) were put on indefinite hiatus while I scrambled to get myself back together. I've finally been able to complete this chapter, and by way of apology it's three times larger than my usual installments. I have a makeshift means of updating, so I'll be focusing on this story to the exclusion of all others for a while. I still won't be able to update every day as I once could, but I should be able to update once or twice a week from here on out. Thank you for your patience, please enjoy. I'm a bit sad that this is the first Bleach chapter I've ever written in which Ulquiorra makes no appearance, but he's coming starting next week, so bear with me.

**RETURN AND RECOVERY  
THE WINTER WAR'S CONCLUSION  
ORIHIME'S STRENGTH**

The first thing Ichigo Kurosaki became aware of when the abyss of his slumber finally waned was the light. Even with his eyes closed he could see the crimson-gold of the sun's morning rays pouring into the room, and feel their radiant warmth on his face. In and of itself this would be a pleasant sensation, but it also reminded him of the second thing he became aware of: his entire body was racked with pain. The covers found their way over his face, which became contorted in agony as the burning throb at his temples became unbearable.

_Damn it._ He thought bitterly. _I can still hear him laughing._ Ichigo couldn't be certain how long he'd been asleep. However, he knew that almost the entire duration of it had been spent in an unconscionable nightmare of taunts and threats shouted between Ichigo and Ichigo... between he and his other self. It would be impossible to feel fully rested after such a sleep, and he took note of the fact that his entire body felt leaden and stiff.

"How long was I out?" He asked the question to no one in particular, as the room he'd been laying in was currently vacant (a case of bad timing on his part, for there had scarcely been five minutes since he'd been placed there that a concerned friend hadn't spent doting over him.) When he was feeling slightly more courageous he attempted to rise, and admirably made it as far as to be sitting up before the pain and nausea he felt forced him to stop. He opened his eye into a narrow slit, his vision fuzzy and distant. The room he found himself in was decorated and constructed in classic Japanese style. Each wall was built of white wood and covered in a natural theme with flowers and kanji symbols used as random decoration. The bed he'd been lying on would more correctly be called a padded mat. The antiquity of the room, as a whole, left little doubt in his mind as to where he was.

Hat and clogs... Kisuke Urahara, Ichigo almost let the realization of whose house he'd been staying in give rise to the question of why he hadn't been delivered to his own home. However, his memory of his last fight in Los Noches was still fresh in his mind. He was certain 'that' was the precise reason he'd been kept here, and this certainty scared and frustrated him. That bastard 

hollow had to reappear. Even though he knew it was always possible, he believed that his determination and Hirako's vizard training would keep that monster asleep forever. If Ulquiorra hadn't been so much stronger than he expected. If Orihime hadn't been there...

Oh, god! Orihime. Ichigo flinched as he remembered the look she had given him when he finally regained control of himself. She'd been so sincerely terrified, but what was that other emotion? Resentment? Was she angry at him for killing the man who had kidnapped her? He didn't pretend to understand all of Orihime's feelings; all he knew was that that one instant -that single expression- had cut him more deeply than any sword he'd ever crossed.

The sound of voices interrupted his thoughts, and he thanked god for it. It seemed that Urahara was keeping company of his own. The two of them were a couple rooms away from Ichigo, so he could only hear if he closed his eyes and listened intently. He did so silently, happy for the distraction.

"My, oh my... and you let them get away without even pretending to pursue. I'm surprised you could be so laid-back." Urahara said, feigning criticism in his usual sarcastic way.

"We didn't have the luxury of a pursuit force." The other man's voice was young, but still commanding of respect. It took Ichigo a few moments to connect it to a name: Hitsugaya Toshiro. "At the time many of our captains were trapped inside Hueco Mundo; the majority of our ninth division as well. It was difficult enough to heal on the front lines without them, pursuing a fleeing enemy was impossible."

"I see, it sounds troublesome. So how many escaped?"

"Two of the Vasto Lorde class arrancar, one of their 'fraccion', and former captain Kaname Tousen."

"Oh? You mean you caught Ichimaru?"

"No, and that's what has me suspicious. He surrendered the exact instant Aizen died."

"... and Kaname Tousen slipped away. It's out of character for both of them." Urahara finished the young man's thought.

"That's the majority opinion at the moment. Yoruichi and Captain Soi-fon are interrogating Ichimaru personally, as we speak." Hitsugaya sounded lost in his thoughts.

"Is that the case? I don't know whether to envy or pity him." Urahara's voice cracked a little at the comment, and Ichigo could imagine the ridiculous grin he had to be wearing as he said it... and the cold expression Hitsugaya would shoot him in return.

"Yes, well, Ichimaru is a serpent. I can't imagine he'll be truthful, even if we torture and imprison him. That's why I'm asking this favor of you."

"So even though the soul society is touting their incredible victory over Aizen's army, not one of you honestly believes that he's dead? I'm a little bit disappointed." The line was spoken in a darker tone than Urahara's voice usually carried. Ichigo cursed at not being able to see exactly what was transpiring, but didn't want to risk losing this chance to learn how the battle ended by trying move closer to the two of them.

"Aizen's abilities make taking anything for certain a fool's mistake."

"Very true, very true. Either way, I'm not certain how many more favors I can be counted on for. I _am_ in exile, after all."

"Just consider it for now. Captain Unohana will be returning with her division tomorrow evening. Since she was the one who first detected something amiss last time we're hoping she'll put our fears to rest."

"Then consider it I shall! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to remind a certain mannerless guest how tactless it is to eavesdrop." The sound of Urahara's fan clicking open almost covered the muffled 'thump' of Ichigo falling over in surprise. Toshiro also seemed taken unaware by the revelation.

"You mean he's finally awake?"

"Apparently so. I didn't realize when I agreed to watch over him for awhile that he planned on staying so long. At times I can be more generous than I realize. D'ya wanna say hello?"

"No, I'm pressed for time badly enough as it is. Please wish him well on my behalf." There was a great rush of energy as the young man walked out the door. Ichigo let himself slump back down onto his mattress and exhaled sharply. While he wanted very much to bring himself to give a damn about the news he'd just heard, his mind was still fixed solely on his failures. Thanks to him Orihime was terrified. Thanks to him Rukia was… he stopped himself right there. There was only so much guilt he could stomach right now.

It felt like an eternity had passed before the door to his little room slid open, revealing the slender frame of his apparent host. Kisuke Urahara looked down, his light eyes locking with Ichigo's to convey an emotion to complex for the younger man to fully understand.

"Damn, friend." The older man's smile was a sad one. "I hope you don't feel as bad as you look." He leaned against the wall beside the door, the tip of his fan resting against his chin.

"Cut the crap. How long was I asleep?" Ichigo growled in guttural voice that sounded almost completely incomprehensible. It was as if his vocal chords were trying to remember how to function again after their long rest. Urahara shrugged at Ichigo's request; in all honesty he wasn't in the mood for sarcasm anyway.

"I can't say how long you were unconscious before they dragged you in here, but you've been lying in that spot there for eleven days now." It was a shame that Ichigo's face felt partially paralyzed. Oh, how he hoped his expression was one of disbelief!

Eleven days… No wonder his body felt like a corpse!

Ichigo wasn't certain how to react to the news, dozens of questions raced through his mind all at once, each seeming to compete to be the first to escape his lips. After several seconds of silence he was able to decide on one, but only made it as far as to say "Is everyone…" before being interrupted.

"I think you were born under a lucky star, you know? As reproachable and stupid as your spontaneous decision to invade Hueco Mundo was, it worked out nicely all around. Orihime was rescued, Aizen's army was crippled," He paused, as if wanting to gauge how Ichigo would react to his next few words. "… and all without a single casualty among your comrades." The rush of relief Ichigo felt would have taken him off his feet if he'd been standing. One of his biggest worries began to melt away.

"You mean Rukia is alive?" Ichigo was so genuinely happy he almost appeared childlike. Urahara couldn't help but chuckle a little at the reaction.

"Alive and well. Believe me, the only person anyone's had to worry about since the battle was you." Ichigo covered his eyes with the palm of his hand. It was an act of outdated machismo from a young man trying to cover his tears of relief. Urahara wondered if there was a time he let himself get that attached to people as well. It had been a long time. After a few moments of breathless sobbing, Ichigo continued his inquiry.

"So how'd things go for the Soul Society?"

"You mean you actually care? Well, Karakura town's still here, so I guess it's clear which army emerged victorious. If you heard Toshiro's speech earlier you know how most of the aftermath is being handled."

"If you guys killed Aizen, then you have nothing to be complaining about. Just focus on rebuilding."

"That's the plan. Of course, since we're dealing with Aizen everyone's a tad paranoid. I've known the man too long to blame them, of course. However, I personally doubt that even Aizen's tricks would be enough for him to escape an attack old man Yama gave his life to perform." A glimmer of realization crossed Ichigo's eyes.

"So that's how it ended."

"Yup. Aizen and Yamamoto wound up dying on each other's swords. It was a sight so tragically cliché it almost seemed ripped from the pages of some shonen manga. Of course that was just the most severe of many casualties, the result of just one of many battles. Truth be told, Even though it looks like a victory it came at a pretty heavy toll. The thirteen court guards are scattered, and Soul Society is more vulnerable at present than I've ever seen it before." Urahara let his fan snap shut just as Ichigo began forcing himself onto his feet. He made progress slowly but surely, gritting his teeth in determination as 

he attempted to remind his body of muscles it had long since forgotten about. A solid minute was all it took for him to stand, and as wobbly as he was it was still a pretty impressive feat.

"Hey, Urahara, tell them that if they need my help I'll cooperate with them. Once I've recovered a bit, I mean." Urahara shot him a look of patronizing surprise.

"There's something I never thought I'd hear you say."

"Yeah, well, to be honest I don't really give a damn about Soul Society or its authority, but," Ichigo's eyes showed signs of a deep sorrow. Urahara began to wonder if he'd taken the news of Yama's death much more seriously than he expected. "This time, regardless of their reasons, they were fighting to protect my home town and a lot of people I care about. I'm truly grateful for that."

"You're one of the most straightforward guys I know, Ichigo." Urahara said with a laugh. "It's a weakness, but an admirable one. Alright, I'll make sure they know you're willing to cooperate with them."

"Thanks. Now, if you'll excuse me. It's about time I headed home." The first step Ichigo attempted almost made him crumple to the ground. Urahara dove to catch him, but stopped when he saw Ichigo find his balance again. The kid's determination really was a force to be reckoned with.

"You gonna be okay?" Urahara asked. Ichigo nodded in affirmation.

"Of course, Exercise is just what I need right now." He made his march for the door, Urahara watched him leave for a moment before calling out, almost as an afterthought:

"Ichigo." His voice was grave and warning. "This time you were here four days before your reiatsu returned to its human form. I understand that you've been forced into a lot of crap since the day you met Rukia. All the same, if you keep thrusting yourself into situations that you have no business living through, it'll be nobody's fault but your own if you're devoured by your own darker nature." The young man turned his head back to give him a strangely reassuring look, a wide smile on his face.

"Y'know something, hat-n-clogs? One of these days I'm gonna have to stop finding myself in your debt. Thanks again." He left at that, surprised to find that the pain in his muscles was strangely invigorating, and finding that each step was easier to take than the last. Urahara was less than convinced, but did nothing to stop his exit.

"False confidence is unbecoming, Ichigo Kurosaki."

SCENE CHANGE

It was the first day back to school following the New Year's break, and the joy this evoked among the students curried its undeniable thickness in the air. For as far on the schoolyard as one could look the sight of lethargic-looking students in hastily assembled uniforms would greet their view. A few 

minutes remained before the start of the school day, and this fact brought expedience to the rushed masses, which moved ever quicker to their destinations amidst the blurred conversations that are almost certainly universal amongst teenagers, the world over. Talk of joyous reunions, the fashionable, and the romantic. Friends were greeting one another as though they hadn't met in years, and engaging in melodramatic mourning over the loss of the long break. This was the atmosphere that Tatsuki and Orihime found themselves in, and would have been lost in were it not for vibrant glow of Orihime's bright orange hair.

The two girls seemed exactly as they had always been: Tatsuki slightly hunched, with an ever-present scowl reflecting her slightly bitter outlook on life, and Orihime beaming a broad smile that seemed to imply naïve obliviousness (a trait which those who knew her best could say was slightly misleading.) While they both appeared to be happy, there was a spirit of unspoken distress dwelling in each of their hearts. Of course, since they were lifelong friends, both girls knew that something was amiss with the other. However, neither dared to question the façade under which they hid, for fear of treading upon some buried scar. So it was that they continued to make small talk that neither of them paid attention to, as Tatsuki lamented knowing so little about the people closest to her and Orihime wondered silently about a certain pale arrancar with light-colored eyes.

"Wow, Orihime! I can't believe you won a trip overseas. You're so lucky…"

"Huh?" Orihime blinked, an expression of confusion on her face. She was sitting in a seat toward the back of the classroom, her friends wreathed around her. One of them, a brown-haired girl who wore a ponytail, had made this statement. Tatsuki (who was seated beside Orihime) quickly leapt to cover for her.

"Don't tell me you've already forgotten about your trip? You just got back! God, you're so helpless." She slapped her forehead in frustration. It was just like Orihime to forget an alibi as soon as it was agreed upon. Orihime remained befuddled another moment before a glimmer of realization crossed her face.

"Oh! Right! Well, um… it sure was a trip." She said in such a rehearsed way that Tatsuki almost screamed.

"Wasn't it France you went to? Did you see anything exciting?" Another girl chimed in. All of them were eager to learn more about her extended absence from school.

"Anything exciting?" Orihime looked up thoughtfully. "Not really. Just a lot of desert I guess. It was really kind of plain." Her response caused the girls to whisper amongst themselves.

"Are there deserts in France?"

"I don't think so… but this is Orihime we're talking about. I don't think she knows the difference between reality and imagination half the time."

"Anyway, forget sight-seeing! I'm much more interested in knowing whether or not you had a little foreign romance." Another of the girls said. She was gazing at Orihime with starry-eyed jealousy. Orihime hadn't even tried to make a reply before a strong arm crept around her chest, embracing her tightly from behind.

"How dare you imply that my sweet, innocent Orihime could ever be charmed by some disgusting man?" The arm's owner, a slender brunette named Chizuru, announced with such violence that it almost caused her glasses to fly off her face. Her outburst left the others shaken, and it took a moment for one of them to speak.

"W-we were just asking. Besides…" She pointed at Orihime in conclusion. Her large brown eyes had turned thoughtful and melancholy and a light blush colored her cheeks. Chizuru's jaw dropped in fearful realization.

"No! Say it ain't so! Don't let some guy take you away from me!" She began sobbing dramatically, her embrace becoming so tight that Orihime was momentarily chocked of breath. Tatsuki tried her best to placate her.

"Relax Chizuru. I'm sure that's not what happened. She's probably just worried about Ichigo. Tatsuki certainly believed this to be the case. After all, from what she knew Orihime had been kidnapped. It wasn't as though that was the kind of situation in which a girl would look for romance, right? Chizuru grunted angrily, but released her grip. She didn't care for Ichigo much, either.

"Speaking of Ichigo, doesn't that look like him, down there?" The girl by the window pointed outward, and the others crowded around to see.

Orihime recognized him instantly. The brightness of his hair as he walked past the school gates was unmistakable. She felt a strange mixture of terror, pity, and longing at the sight of him, and knew she had to speak with him as soon as possible.

"He looks injured." Tatsuki said, taking note of his uneven steps and slight swagger.

"Maybe he picked a fight with someone?" offered another student. Orihime was no longer listening. Everything else about the world had melted away. She turned around and darted out of the classroom.

Scene Change

Ichigo was relieved to find that the stiff pain in his legs was slowly fading away. He knew he wasn't seriously injured, and the pain was more of an annoyance than a real burden. That didn't change the fact that he was relieved to be rid of it. A sudden nostalgia hit him as he passed the school, and for a moment he debated going inside. In the end, he decided against it. He just wasn't ready to face Orihime, yet. With a sigh he walked past the schoolyard gates. For some reason he longed to be home. He wasn't quite a hundred yards from the school before a loud scream roared out to him.

"Wait a minute, Ichigo!" He cringed instinctively at the unexpected sound of Orihime's voice.

…So much for not being ready to face her.

"Oh, hello Orihime." He said as she drew closer, panting for breath. If he hadn't been so sore he would have tried running away from her.

"Hi, yourself! Where are you headed?" She smiled up at him, leaving no hint of her inner turmoil.

"Back home. Apparently I've been out of action for a while."

"I'll say. We were all worried about you y'know. Renji, Rukia, and even Ishida came to visit you a lot."

"I see. I'll have to thank them for worrying so much." Ichigo said, genuinely touched, even if it wasn't surprising news. He was tempted to ask her whether or not she had visited him as well, but was still scared of how she might respond. She seemed to pick up on his concern, because she hastily ended the conversation.

"We can talk more at your house! You don't care if I come over, do you? I didn't think so! Come on, let's go." She started pushing him in the direction of his house.

"But don't you have school? Hey!" Ichigo grunted in resignation, and allowed himself to be pushed toward his house.

Scene change

The Kurosaki residence stood tranquil and harmonious in its residential block. The average sized house was a welcome sight to Ichigo, who felt as if a lifetime had passed since the first time he'd gazed upon it. It felt good to be human. It felt good to be alive.

It felt good to be home.

He walked past the tall fenced section, his fingers tracing the sign that identified it as his family's property. Hueco Mundo had left a bigger impression on him than he'd originally believed. One could almost think he'd forgotten how the human world felt. Hundreds of revelations bombarded him at once. Suddenly, he became aware of the cutting wind of early January, of the scent of winter in the air, 

and the light glow cast on the world by the sun beginning its slow decent from the top of the sky. Tranquility! That's what he felt. It was completely unlike him. Thus, I suppose it was fortunate that this feeling shattered as soon as he reached his home and pulled open the door.

"Itsygoooou!" The instant the door opened a green blur rammed into him, her head pushing into his stomach like a short spear and sending him flying backward. He slid an inch or two in the dirt before even trying to rebound, looking forward into the face of the small girl who now sat in his lap.

"N-nel? What are you doing here?" The green-haired girl beamed merrily and threw her arms around him.

"I live here now!" She giggled her response, lavishing her affection for him in the complete and innocent way that only a child can.

"You live…" It took a moment for her words to register in Ichigo's mind, when they did his expression became one of shock. He stood so suddenly that the poor young girl was sent sprawling onto the ground. "What!?" He charged into his house with determined fury. "Dad, what the hell is going on here?"

"Far too slow, runt!" A commanding voice roared. Ichigo turned just in time to dodge the balled fist that his father sent flying at his face. He weaved to the left to avoid the strike, but his father succeeded in tripping him off of his balance as he dodged, catching him in a headlock before he could recover.

"Dammit!" Ichigo cried, struggling in vain against his father's hold as the older man laughed merrily.

"Why are you bellowing at me? I should think you'd be happy that I invited another of your consorts to stay with us. You know, Ichigo… as a man I'm proud that you've managed to collect such a large harem in such a short amount of time, but it seems like your tastes have changed. I mean, Orihime is so full figured and supple…what are those, G-cups? Then there's Rukia, who was petite, to be sure. Now this? I try my best to be supportive, but how is a father to bear the shame of watching his son slowly transform into some sort of lolicon." He announced this in his most dynamic voice, melodramatic tears pouring down his cheeks.

"Umm… I'm standing right here." Orihime said good-naturedly, a nervous sweat drop falling down the side of her head.

"Oh, you are! Hello, Orihime." Ichigo's father blushed a little at the realization, just as Ichigo's hand found its way to the scruff of his shirt. The larger man didn't notice his son's counterattack until he was halfway over his shoulder. He fell into the wall and sagged onto the floor.

"You shouldn't talk. It makes you sound stupid, you perverted old man." Ichigo declared angrily. Nel's staying wasn't such a bad thing. He had no idea what kind of chaos Hueco Mundo was in right now, and at least he could guarantee her safety if he was with her. Still, the problem was in what 

she was. How would Soul Society react? No, he was certain Rukia would understand, and she was the only one who needed to know right now, anyway. Ichigo decided to let the issue drop and started heading toward his room.

On the ground, Isshin Kurosaki continued to cry in a way that was completely beyond what the situation actually called for.

"Where did I go wrong with that boy?" He sobbed into the ground. Yuzu, his youngest daughter, knelt down and patted him gently on the shoulder.

"It's okay, Dad." She said gently.

Scene Change

Ichigo had half-way expected (and wasn't certain whether he hoped for it or feared it) an uncomfortable silence to fill the room when he and Orihime finally found solitude inside his room. However, she spoke to him easily, and the two of them made small talk for several minutes. He was sitting at his desk, while she sat on his bed. Neither one felt comfortable. For him, it was the knowledge that she was so deliberately avoiding the subject neither of them could stop thinking about. It irritated him more than he felt he deserved.

"So we thought of a good enough excuse to use for everyone at school, since this time everyone still remembered me and noticed I was gone and all. Tatsuki came up with most of it, who knew she was so devious? Oh, she says you still owe her an apology, by the way. Don't forget it." Orihime spoke energetically, but with none of the joy her voice usually carried. There was that twinge of anger in Ichigo's chest again. Was she going to pretend that it had never happened?

"I know, I won't forget." His voice was so calm it almost spooked him.

"Let's see, what else-" Orihime began before being cut off by Ichigo.

"Aren't you going to bring it up?" His tone was soft and his voice even, but there was an edge to his words. Orihime pretended to be surprised, but her face darkened noticeably.

"B-bring what up?" She was really going to pretend to be fine after all of this? Ichigo slammed his hand down on his desk. The resulting noise was as loud as a thunderclap, and Orihime's heart skipped a beat at the action.

"Bring up the Arrancar I killed in Los Noches!" Ichigo almost screamed. He wasn't being fair to her, and he wasn't sure why it upset him so much. That didn't change the fact that he was angry.

"I-I-I" Orihime had begun to shrink away from him, her eyes once again full of the fear that had haunted his nightmares while he slept. He instantly regretted losing his temper. "What was I supposed 

to say? I know that that thing I saw wasn't you. I really do, Ichigo." She didn't doubt that he would never harm her, but did she dare to tell him the true reason why it hurt her to look at him now?

"It wasn't me. I'm sorry I yelled at you, but, please. Orihime, why are you still so scared of me." _Better yet, how can I blame you for being scared of me_? He thought dismally to himself. _You saw that monster with your own two eyes._ The sudden confrontation made Orihime feel very cornered. She suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to just bolt out of the room.

"Ichigo. Before he-before Ulquiorra- kidnapped me, he gave me permission to say goodbye to one person, and only one." _It's better I tell him everything_. She resolved. Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, but she gave him a look that seemed to say 'it's your turn to listen.'

"It wasn't a choice at all; I knew immediately who it would be. I wanted to share the last words before my departure, for all I knew the last words I would ever speak, with you. You've been so important to me for so long, Ichigo. Just being with you was enough to make me happy, and the thought of being separated from you forever took that happiness away." She could feel her voice starting to get caught in her throat, but she refused to let herself cry.

"I've started to notice something recently. I guess I knew it for a while, but I didn't really start to think about it until Rukia was kidnapped and we started our long journey together. You mean well, I know, all of you guys do. It's just that, I don't think you've ever really considered me a member of the team. I've never been an equal to you."

"That's not true." Ichigo started, but again Orihime raised her hand and shook her head to silence him.

"Please, just listen, Ichigo." He was hesitant, but he nodded slowly. "You never stopped to think about my abilities or powers. You always just protected me, tried to shield me from everything that was even the slightest bit dangerous. The thought that I could ever be of real use in a fight, even to save my friend, never once crossed your mind. I didn't hold it against you, because I guess a part of me believed that I was pretty worthless too."

"Everything changed when he came into my life. I thought it was a change for the worse, but now I know that it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was separated from everything I knew and loved, but because of that I started to see the strength inside of me for the first time in my life. I moved forward, and found the beautiful things in the world that had made itself my own. I wasn't a princess who was locked in a tower waiting for her prince to save her anymore. Ulquiorra had made it possible for me to find my strength, but I grabbed a hold of it on my own. In return, I think I helped him remember how it felt to be human again. That was how the bond between us was born."

"I still care for you, Ichigo, but now I know that what I was mistaking for…" Orihime blushed a little bit. "…what I was mistaking for love was really just my desire to cling to you for safety. It was kind of childish, I guess." She couldn't stop the slightest traces of tears from finding their way down her cheeks. "You represented the old me, and Ulquiorra represented the new me. I think that's why now, 

whenever I see you… The only thing I can think of is the sight of that creature torturing and killing the person I cared about more than anyone else in the world. I know it's not fair, I know that."

"Orihime…" Ichigo was taken aback by Orihime's sudden declaration. There was nothing that could hold her tears back now, and she crumpled down for a moment and sobbed uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry, Ichigo. You all risked so much and tried so hard to save me, but from the bottom of my heart I wish you'd just let me stay." She charged out of the room, leaving the house without saying another word to anyone. Ichigo sat in shock, his own emotions swirling uncontrollably. He screamed at the top of his lungs, and when that failed to relieve him he dove onto his bed and tried to fall asleep.

It would be hours before he succeeded.


	4. I am Ulquiorra Schiffer

Author's note: here we are at chapter four! Thanks to all my 1000 viewers! I know this story is riding the coat tails of my previous work, but it still feels good to see such favorable reception. Nothing of real note for this chapter, except that I had to rush the last four paragraphs or so, since if I didn't finish this tonight I'd have to wait an extra week before I could publish it. I'll be away from computers until next Friday, but I'll write my next chapter down on paper and transfer it, so it shouldn't slow my publication. Please read and review! I'll accept good and bad. I'm just a glutton for attention.

**I am Ulquiorra Schiffer**

**Memories of the desert**

**Decent to the world of the living**

_Three years before Ulquiorra's shinigamification-Hueco Mundo:_

The long night of Hueco Mundo had begun to fall upon the desert, and the fading twilight bathed both of their forms in silver. They stood poised in the desert sand, regarding one another with the savage solemnity that one can only share with an individual they intend to kill. Ulquiorra was familiar with this scene by now; in the world of hollows it was macabre but very ordinary.

This other creature towered over him by a significant height. His form was little removed from the more typical menos. The only evolution he'd earned was a pair of massive arms, each encased in a white exoskeleton. His shoulders were covered in thick, bony spikes, which Ulquiorra immediately made note of and began addressing the possibility that they might be launched as projectiles. This large hollow's golden-yellow eyes shone bright behind his mask, the gaze they case being both primitive and unintelligent.

"You no run? Food not run!?" His words and voice confirmed Ulquiorra's suspicions. A menos in its earliest stages was nothing more than an amalgam of human souls. The typical hollow of this type could possess as many as a thousand, each struggling to be the single soul to emerge as the dominant personality. Until this occurs, the menos is a mindless and instinctive predator whose capacity for higher thought is inferior to a human child's. This hollow was still shy of the rank of Adjuchas, but he would serve his purpose.

Ulquiorra, on the other hand, was presently in his seventy-fourth year since acquiring the title of Adjuchas. His figure had reverted almost fully to a human appearance, and his mask was now part of an elaborate helmet similar in design to a samurai's 'kabuto.' As he warily eyed this other hollow, he wondered dispassionately how many hundreds, how many thousands exactly like it he had faced in this way.

Not more than another second was given for silence. With a hungry growl the Menos lunged for him. He strafed away from its massive hand seconds before it made contact, and then darted forward so quickly that he seemed to become invisible. With a fluid motion he delivered a kick to the creature's knee, causing it to real into a spin as its failed attack pushed it forward. As if fell to the ground, Ulquiorra jumped into the air. Striking while the enemy was off balance was the most basic of all strategy.

For its size, the Menos' speed was impressive, and it recovered faster than Ulquiorra had expected. It turned one of its armored shoulders up toward him, and Ulquiorra braced with the expectation that the spikes embedded in it would be launched upward at him. After several seconds passed and nothing occurred, he realized that it was simply assuming a defensive stance. The outcome of this fight was now inevitable.

Changing his trajectory with a burst of reiatsu, Ulquiorra descended rapidly past the spikes and down to the ground. The Menos tried one last time to crush him under hand, but this became just another vain attack. Ulquiorra weaved past it and leapt for the killing blow. With his fingers extended he cleaved his hand violently against his enemy's exposed torso. His bare hands were as hard as steel, and the gash this strike cut was deep and instant. The Menos collapsed onto the ground, the sand beneath it diluting into the black-scarlet blood that poured freely from the wound.

The danger now passed, Ulquiorra relaxed his stance and flung the blood on his fingertips away with a rapid jerking motion. The bested creature howled savagely, at first Ulquiorra believed it was simply acknowledging its death, but something about its glance had changed.

"Am I… what?" The words were clearer now, and more aware. "Pain… why is there so much pain?" This caught Ulquiorra by surprise. Had a human personality emerged at last? An unlucky soul, indeed, to gain awareness at a time like this.

"You attacked me. Despite the fact that the likelihood of your success was virtually zero, you attacked me. You are in pain now because I have mortally wounded, and will soon devour you.

"You mean I'm going to die?" His voice was panicked and confused. "I can't… I won't be satisfied to die before I can even remember my name." The Menos began thrashing wildly. It was an incomprehensible reaction, and Ulquiorra wondered why he would move in a way that would only further tear his injuries if he wanted so desperately to live.

Regardless, this was Hueco Mundo. The strong devouring the weak was a matter of course. Ulquiorra stepped up to this creature, which was now so heavily injured it could offer no resistance. He knelt down before it, and soon its cries of despair were replaced with howls of agony.

A strange and incredible change began to occur within Ulquiorra's body as he started to consume his enemy. The change was not so much one of aesthetic, but of substance. The center of his chest felt like it was being consumed with hot flames, his limbs tingled with restless energy and all the parts of him that were inhuman in appearance began to melt into what remained of his frame. When 

the transmogrification ended itself he could feel that the limit of his power had increased by an unimaginable amount. He had reached the pinnacle of existence for a hollow.

Ulquiorra Schiffer had become a Vasto Lorde.

He expected to feel joy. He hoped this accomplishment would bring him a cathartic jolt. However, the longing that had driven him on for so many years was not even remotely sated. The deep-seated desire that felt more empty and unsatisfied than even the hole at the base of his neck remained.

"W-why?" The Menos laying before him looked up with pained eyes. A large portion of his side was gone, lost in Ulquiorra's feeding. "Why are you sparing me?" Ulquiorra responded to the question with a gaze of contempt.

"You misunderstand." He said evenly. "This is no act of mercy. You are still alive because the amount of you I needed to devour to complete my evolution was less than a lethal percentage of your body. Whether you live or die now is no concern of mine." He turned his back on the Menos; this was his way of indicating that he no longer acknowledged him. Although Ulquiorra never took much pleasure or solace in physical strength, he had always possessed contempt for those things that were too weak to even pursue a basic existence.

"Just a minute… tell me your name." The Menos said weakly, it was clear by the softness of his voice that his consciousness was fading.

"You wish to know my name before you even recall your own?" The request baffled him.

"Damn you! Tell me your name. I swear to god, I'll kill you one day!" The heavily injured hollow tried his best to sound determined.

"The existence of a hollow is very savage and very severe. For instance, regardless of how much you desire strength, and no matter how many adversaries you kill, your evolution ceases the moment even the slightest part of you is devoured. What has happened today signifies the end of your progress. You will remain weak for the rest of your life." Ulquiorra didn't say this to be cruel, as sadism wasn't in his nature (a rare thing for a hollow to boast!) He simply spoke truthfully. The other hollow sank further back, his despair evident.

"If knowing my name will bring you solace, I don't mind telling you. I am Ulquiorra Schiffer, and I stand at a plateau that you can never reach."

_The day of Ulquiorra's shinigamification- Hueco Mundo:_

It didn't really deserve to be called a village, so much as a hastily assembled settlement. Ramshackle houses composed of what limited materials could be found on hand, and lived in by more people than their size should probably accommodate were scattered everywhere in this thin valley. It wasn't uncommon for the lower castes of hollows, often those who refused to feed on humans and 

became severely weakened for it, to band together for group safety and establish communities very similar to those found in Soul Society's Rukongai district. It wasn't an easy way to live, and many of the hollows that dwelled in these communities had a hard time of surviving.

That didn't change the fact that returning from scavenging to find their homes razed in conflagration was devastating. Some of the hollows ran to their own property, braving the flames to try and save what little they could call their own. The majority, however, knew that they would be better off leaving quickly, for whoever had caused this destruction was likely still nearby. Those that fled survived (at least a while longer.) Those that returned to their settlement saw a most bizarre spectacle before their deaths.

Few hollows who remain in the realm of Hueco Mundo expect to ever encounter a shinigami, so it must have come as a shock for these hollows to see the pale form of just such a man emerge from the flames to receive them. He had light colored hair, and his eyes seemed almost permanently closed. As he swept into the crowd of hollows, killing most of them before they can even begin to react, it became clear that he was still wearing the ceremonial uniform of a Soul Society captain, with the Japanese character for 'san'(three) stitched darkly on his back. It took him only a few moments to slaughter the two dozen hollows that had reentered the valley.

Ulquiorra watched this scene from a cave that overlooked it. He had been living there since he became a Vasto Lorde three years prior, and was surprised to find a strange sadness in himself at the sight of the burning village. Watching hollows working together to survive as opposed to the mindless consumption he had encountered for centuries before it filled him with a strange tranquility. He spent countless days looking down on them: resenting them for their weakness while at the same time envying them for reasons he didn't fully understand.

"How fortunate that I'm the one to find you!" The man's voice said politely. Ulquiorra's eyes widened in surprise that someone had managed to get behind him without him noticing it. He turned to strike out of instinct. But his arm passes through the image of the brown-haired man behind him as though he were a ghost. There was a soft cracking sound as he reappeared three feet behind his afterimage.

"Shunpo…" Ulquiorra said thoughtfully. Identifying the technique shinigami used to travel long distances instantaneously. The other man smiled, clapping his hands to acknowledge the guess.

"You're familiar with it? Good, then I guess there's no need to tell you that I'm a shinigami."

"Is that so? What is it you want, Shinigami?" Ulquiorra stood relaxed, but guarded. A demon of his class had no need to fear even the strength of the captains. The other man's confident smile remained fixed in place. He ran his fingertips through his slicked brown hair.

"To extend an invitation, Vasto Lorde." This man was one of the most unique creatures that Ulquiorra had ever encountered. He seemed poised without fear, but also without aggression. He stood in the layer of one of the most powerful hollows in existence, yet the only emotion he conveyed 

was pure and unflinching confidence. In the years that would follow, Ulquiorra would often recall his immediate attraction to this absolute emotional strength. This shinigami was one of only two people who would ever make him feel this way.

"I have no interest in collaborating with you. Be gone." Ulquiorra turned his gaze back down toward the now uncontrollable flames below him.

"Do you resent me for ordering their deaths?"

"I do not." This answer was truthful. While he wasn't sure how the deaths of the villagers made him feel, he knew he was not resentful. "However, I want nothing to do with an inane power struggle in the Soul Society." The shinigami's smile widened in amusement.

"You're sharp. That's the logical conclusion, isn't it? Why would a shinigami captain seek the aid of hollows unless he hoped to use them in a civil war? However, you sell me short in assuming I'm so common, Vasto Lorde. My greatest ambition is to destroy meaningless circles like revolution."  
"Meaningless circles…?" Ulquiorra mirrored thoughtfully, the shinigami's meaning unclear to him.

"That's right. I suppose you could call it 'karma'. Humans, hollows, and shinigami all fall prey to a mighty current that leads them into an eternal dance of repetition. Humans are born; dedicate their adulthood to the raising of their children, and die. Hollows consume one another unto eternity. Shinigami struggle to escape from the poverty into which almost all begin, they gain the power to become seated officers and eventually captains. They keep this position until someone stronger kills them. Everyone is aware of how pointless and repetitive the life they lead is, but this never dissuades them from living and dying precisely as millions before them have and millions to follow will. I can't be satisfied with such a wasted life. Can you?"

"I…" Ulquiorra had never in his life felt such a stirring of emotion swell within his breast. The emptiness he'd felt since obtaining ultimate power felt assuaged, and for the first time in a century he was growing excited to see what the future might hold. "I, too, am unsatisfied with my existence."

"You're the most intriguing hollow I've ever encountered." The shinigami replied, meaning it. "I've been able to gather an army in Hueco Mundo by appealing to bloodlust, but you're different. It seems that we long for the same thing, so why not strive for it together? Help me expose and overthrow the imperial power that governs existence. Witness the destruction of our circular lives from your position at my right hand."

It was a strange feeling, hearing words that your heart had expressed voicelessly for years spoken by another man. Ulquiorra didn't know whether it was truly possible to accomplish what this shinigami desired, but moving toward it-even if it proved to be folly- might finally bring him a sense of purpose.

"Who are you, shinigami?"

"Sosuke Aizen." As he said this, Ulquiorra stooped to one knee, his arm crossing his chest in a bow of respect.

"So be it, Aizen-sama. I am Ulquiorra Schiffer; I will assist you in the creation of your dream." Aizen nodded his head in acknowledgement, chuckling in satisfaction.

"Ulquiorra?" Aizen confirmed. "I understand. In that case, I will grant you the power that only I can give. You will be the first Vasto Lorde to join the brotherhood of the arrancar!"

_Present day-Karakura town:_

Human bodies are so inconvenient! The legs felt so much heavier than what he was accustomed to that in order for him to begin his search Ulquiorra had to literally learn how to walk again. It didn't take him long, but he found that he was tiring much more easily. The gigai, a kind of artificial human body, his soul was nestled in was a proxy of the models used by Soul Society. It completely masked a hollow's reiatsu, but as a result he couldn't access his powers while he used it. Living on the strength of just an average human would take a lot of practice.

_Aizen-sama wanted these prepared for the Espada. It's not needed, but damned if I would have refused! I won't be bested by any other scientific mind._ Ulquiorra remembered the words Szayael Aporro Granz had shared with him when he showed him the gigai. _This must be a dream come true for you, Ulqy-chan! With a body like this you could act out all those romantic fantasies you have with that pet human of yours._

Szayael's laboratory survived the destruction of Las Noches, although Ulquiorra had difficulty obtaining the gigai from it without being discovered by the shinigami captain with the painted face who had been gleefully examining the lab's remains. Ulquiorra had reservations about limiting his power, but knew the camouflage would make it easier for him to move. Besides, no gimmick was required to separate his soul from the gigai; he only needed to will the separation.

Orihime Inoue. He had to see her again; it was difficult to say why. One of the most remarkable things about her was her ability to remind him how little he truly knew about himself. She and Aizen had a great deal in common. Both possessed strength of resolve and spirit which he sorely lacked.

"Do I find myself drawn to you because of your strength? Orihime… the true me and the version of myself I see in your eye's reflection. I wonder how different we are." Ulquiorra mused this without expressing any particular emotion; he walked forward as the top of Karakura high school became visible in the distance.


End file.
